


This, That, And Something In Between

by anotherthief



Category: Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-13
Updated: 2011-12-05
Packaged: 2019-01-10 23:38:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 4,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12310284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherthief/pseuds/anotherthief
Summary: A collection of unconnected drabbles and ficlets written for Matt and Harriet, mostly written for a 50 scenes challenge I never finished... Some are better than others.





	1. Ain't Missing You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this work is the same I used for my collection of M/H stories on FFN. This chapter and the next couple were not originally part of that set when posted there, but for the sake of simplicity, I'm including them in it here.

Harriet looks up from her script, and who could it be in the door way.  
  
"You miss me," Matt says, with that shit-eating grin of his.  
  
Shit. "What? You're crazy."  
  
" _You_   **miss**  me."  
  
"Someone's been lying to you." The fact that she is lying to herself is beside the point.  
  
"Oh no, you can't deny it. You miss me."  
  
"Says who?" I am gonna kill..  
  
"Jeannie."  
  
Jeannie. "And you actually believe her?"   
  
"Well, even you have to admit she's a pretty reliable source."  
  
"Only  _you_  would consider the studio gossip a reliable source."   
  
"Still doesn't change the fact that you miss me."  
  
"Just keep telling yourself that."   
  
"You know you do."  
  
"And so what if I do? Huh? What does it prove?" That she is madly deeply crazy in love with him, and will never get over him no matter what she tells herself. That she misses him every second of every day including right this minute when he is close enough to touch.   
  
"I don't know."  
  
"You make  _so_  much sense."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your author in the year 2017: this was the first bit of fic I ever wrote :')
> 
> As I was adding these I decided to add a running commentary to the end notes. The beginning notes are almost entirely from the initial posting of these bits and bobs on my old LJ.


	2. Stumbling In The Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set five years or so pre-show.

They were broken up. Really. They were. They _are_.

First, there was the big scene in the foyer after the dinner for the person who retired. Not that she remembers half of it because of course there was the bar and the tequila afterward. However, the reporters were more than happy to fill in all the gory, juicy details of it in the days and weeks that followed. And it would not have been complete without the usual snide comments about her religion and his... _unreligion_? Is that even a word? But, then again, at this point, it doesn't really matter, right? Because they're _over_.

Not even just because of the scene. There was the talk. With them there is _always_ the talk. The one where he picks apart her values, the church and the irony of it all. She calls him a self-absorbed arsine pig and brings up all his insecurities and inability to commit to anyone other than Danny. And there's Danny. There's always Danny. She loves the man but she does not love the third person in the relationship. Matt can't function without Danny, so she is just supposed to deal with the fact that if it came down to it, Matt would choose Danny over her. She knows this and she accepts and deals with it because she loves... because she loves him. But that's not important (only it is), back to the talk. The talk. God. The talk where they fling insults at each other like bullets and neither remembers to wear their bulletproof vests. She always winds up crying. He always wipes the tears away and makes her laugh because that's what he's best at, making her laugh. Then they agree that _this_ time, _this_ time it really is over. _Really_.

And yet even after all of that, here she is again, dressing quietly in the dark so they can skip the awkward talk. Instead they'll save it for the studio the day after tomorrow when they've both had time to go over what they'll say and do and how it'll all be okay (even though it's not, and it hurts and she'll cry as soon as he leaves her dressing room). It has to be okay because they work together, they're a team professionally even when they're not personally. Where is her head? What's happened to her? When did she become this, this masochist who lets an impossible relationship turn into such a cycle of on again off again heartache? Who reads the play over and over again when they know that in the end the prince rides off into the sunset with the wizard and the heroine is left to pick up the pieces? She’s the girl with all the answers about death and the hereafter but she can't even peg life on earth somewhere in the ballpark.

Here she is, buttoning up her shirt on the edge of the bed of the man who stole her heart and won't give it back. Last night she let the bad week, the beers and the sound of his voice in her ear sway her into giving into desire. Into ignoring the little voice in her head telling her his sweet kisses would bitter in the early morning light. She could lie and say she just needed a soft place to fall for a few hours. It's not like they don't have a history, or that it's not understandable to turn to an old flame in trying times. She can't, though, because Matt's never been just a flame and it would romanticize their (hell of a) history. The one where they love each other passionately and to distraction until the contest of who can hurt each other most comes to life. That's when they begin to tear each other apart until there is nothing left to do but have really great break-up sex. They go to their respective corners and lick their wounds for a few months, maybe even a year, before being drawn together and starting the cycle all over again.

There's all of that hurt, anger and resentment and yet this part of it is the one that cuts her the deepest. The quiet affair they have in between (sometimes even during) relationships when he holds her for a night without complications and she dreams of them being like this every night only to awake in the morning with a hangover of both the alcoholic and heartache variety. At the end of the day, she loves him more than she ever dreamt it humanly possible to love another person. One would think that would be enough and yet she's picking up her purse and looking longingly to the man still asleep halfway under the covers with his hair a mess and his mouth open just enough to be cute. He's beautiful and insane and she knows she'll never love anyone else like she loves the fool. Which is why she'll always come back even though she knows that there is a good possibility he'll only break her fractured heart all over again.

One day they're bound to get lucky and make it work, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your author in the year 2017: I think this is the first thing I wrote that I remember feeling proud of.


	3. (Un)Perfect Fit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Hands.

Gently, he slides his hand into hers.  
  
It’s a perfect fit. She allows her thumb to trace his skin.  
  
A perfect fit, she says in her head and shaking it at the thought. That is one thing, she thinks, that she and Matt will never be. He’s too hot headed, she’s too stubborn. They’re too much alike and far too different at the same time. An irony she will mull over later. Right now Matt’s holding her hand and they’re not fighting; it’s just a nice moment.  
  
Right now, they’re okay.  
  
Later, she knows, will be a whole other story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your writer in the year 2017: d'aw. That's still pretty cute, if I say so myself.


	4. The Birthday Mishap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Ignored.

"You can't ignore me forever, Matt!" Harriet said, following him into his office.

Finding Danny there, Matt asked, "Do you hear someone talking?"

"Yes, you did. What are you two fighting about now?" Danny replied, uneager to play referee let alone for the umpteenth time this week.

"He won't talk to me," was Harriet's reply.

"That much I gathered." Danny quipped. "Why won't he talk to you?"

"Because she's an idiot," Matt answered instead.

Danny sighed, annoyed. “Will someone please tell me what happened already?"

"Genius over there bought me The Purpose Driven Life for my birthday!"

"I thought you might find it an interesting read, I'm sorry! I've already said that!" Harriet replied, exasperated. "He's leaving out the part where I also got him the entire Three Stooges DVD collection."

"And I said thank you for them, but why the book? Tell me, really? On what planet did you think it would be a good idea? Seriously! Danny, tell me, how could she think that was even remotely a good idea?" Matt looked over to where Danny had stood a moment ago to find Danny walking out, hands in pockets, shaking his head whilst muttering under his breath incoherently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your writer in the year 2017: I still sometimes miss these overgrown children.


	5. Could Be Worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Mistake. Set two years after the show ended.

“Well, look at this way,” Danny said as he leaned back on the couch in Matt’s office, “it could be worse. It could be Luke.”  
  
“Yeah,” Matt said, sighing as he leaned back in his own chair and tossed a tennis ball up in the air.  
  
\-----  
  
_A few hours earlier…_  
  
“So I believe I owe you some congratulations,” Matt said as he sat down next to Harriet on the steps.  
  
Harriet smiled without looking at him, her eyes trained on a tall dark headed man chatting with Tom and Cal across the room. “Than-”  
  
Matt interrupted, “I said I owed you some, I didn’t say I intended to give them.”  
  
“Matthew…” Harriet said, her tone warning.  
  
“Harriet,” Matt replied, quietly.  
  
“Matt, don’t start,” Harriet said evenly.  
  
“Don’t marry him, Harriet.”  
  
“Do you hear anything I say?”  
  
“Yes, I just choose to ignore it,” Matt quipped.  
  
“I said, don’t start. I don’t want to hear all your reasons about why this is a mistake. It’s not,” Harriet said quietly, doing her best to keep her tone even.  
  
“I’m not saying it’s a mistake. Patrick’s a good enough guy. I’m just saying, ‘don’t marry him’.”  
  
“Okay then. Why? If you think Patrick is a good enough guy, why shouldn’t I marry him?”  
  
“Because it’s not really what you want.”  
  
“How would you know what I want? And since when do you care?  _You’re_  the one who broke my heart, remember? Remember that? Remember the yelling and me crying and you walking out? Come on, Matthew, it was only a couple years ago. Surely you remember?”  
  
“Harry…”  
  
“What, Matt? What is it? Have you come to tell me you’ve fallen in love with me again? Or that you’ve really changed this time? ‘Cause I don’t wanna hear it. I’ve had enough, Matt. I’m sick of waiting for you to grow up; I’m done. Patrick, he loves me. He doesn’t run away when the going gets tough. He doesn’t question my beliefs. He’ll take care of me. And I love him. I really do,” she said, as she did her best to keep her emotions in check and words quiet, least they attract any attention.  
  
They sat in silence for a little while before Matt stood up. As he started back up the stairs he softly said, “Congratulations, Harry.”  
  
\-----  
  
“I guess it could be worse,” Matt said as he caught the tennis ball.  
  
But he wasn’t really sure he believed that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your writer in the year 2017: I'm still proud of the bookends with the tennis ball going up and coming down.


	6. ESPn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the FanForum S60 crew.

Harriet sunk into Matt’s office couch. “I swear you and Danny have ESPn.”  
  
“What?” Matt said, swiveling his chair around.  
  
She kinda looked at him. “You know like, telepathy – you know what each other is thinking.”  
  
Matt rolled his eyes. “I know what telepathy is. ESPn - that’s a sports channel,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I think you mean ESP.”  
  
“No,” Harriet stated simply. “I mean ESPn. It sounds better that way.”  
  
Matt screwed up his face, shaking his head. “Harriet, that doesn’t make any sense.”  
  
Harriet stood up, shaking her own head, “Says the man who put Spit-Take Theatre on the air.”  
  
“That’s different. It’s comedy. It doesn’t have to make sense.”  
  
“And you just proved my point.” Harriet laughed as she moved towards the door.  
  
Matt ran a hand through his hair. “How, wait what? Oh, forget it. I give up.”  
  
“Wow,” Harriet said in mock amazement.  
  
“ _Now_  what?” Matt asked, exasperated.  
  
Harriet smirked. “You give up. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that before.”  
  
Matt smiled, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, well. I always said you bring out the worst in me.”  
  
“And you love me for it,” Harriet said with a grin as she headed out the door.  
  
“A miracle not even the man upstairs can explain,” Matt said, chuckling to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your writer in the year 2017: yeaaah so this was mostly just a board joke (awh remember when boards were the thing?) that turned into a fic, but it's still kinda cute? I'll go with cute :)


	7. Losing And Surrendering Look The Same In The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to the author notes I included at the time, this was my first try at second person. This is also not M/H but rather Harriet at age 17. It just seems to make more sense to include it with the rest of these, than to post it solo.

You are 17 and your dad is drinking. He’s a mean drunk and he yells, mostly at you, and he throws things, mostly at you, because you look like her and you pray to the God he blames for taking her away. So you leave. You can’t take it anymore. You get in your ratty old car and you drive and you drive until you can’t see straight anymore. You wind up at a church; it’s not your church but it’s late and it’s dark and you need somewhere quiet to think.  
  
It’s empty so you walk up to the altar. You crumble to your knees, worn out and give out and you start crying and praying. She’s gone and he needs you to take care of him and you’re only 17 and you shouldn’t have to be doing this, but she left you and he’s all you’ve got and you can’t just walk away and leave him to drink himself to death? But you can’t keep doing this. You can’t live like this but you can’t leave either. So you pray and you pray and you pray until you can’t think because you don’t know what else to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your author in the year 2017: this is one of two second person things you'll have to endure. At least they're short?


	8. Walking on Eggshells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Moment. I've been testing out different writing styles, and this is not my favorite, but it's interesting. I don't see me using it a lot in the future, but again, it's interesting.

He’s mad and she’s quiet and they’re not saying and everyone’s walking on eggshells. Danny’s doesn’t know but Danny never not knows so how can Danny not know when Danny always knows cause Matt always says but Matt’s not saying. Harriet’s not saying and Jordan can’t fix it and Jack avoids everyone altogether. Tom tries to crack a joke and Matt bores a hole in Tom’s head so Tom is hiding in his dressing room and Lucy can’t get him to come out and Simon’s given up trying. Matt’s not saying and Harriet’s not saying. They don’t know what’s wrong and they can’t fix it if they don’t know and if they don’t know that anything’s wrong then maybe nothing is wrong but if nothing is wrong then why is Matt mad and Harriet quiet and everyone walking on eggshells?  
  
There’s a moment and it’s just a moment but it’s so much more because it makes so much difference. It’s why Matt’s mad and Harriet’s quiet. This moment, this one stupid moment makes the difference and at the same time it doesn’t because it was just one moment in a series of thousands but Matt and Harriet have never been rational people. So Matt’s mad and Harriet’s quiet and everyone’s walking on eggshells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your writer in the year 2017: yeah this is... not my best, but for completeness sake, I felt compelled to keep it with the rest.


	9. In The Middle Of The Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Darkness. This came out of nowhere but could be inserted into sometime after one of their break-up arguments that first episode or two.

See, the thing is, Matt knows good and well that this time is his fault, all his fault. He was in the wrong; he should not have said it, period, the end. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t go home at night and lie in his bed, staring up at the darkness, missing her and willing to do anything for just one more try, for just one more chance to make things right, to make them work. But, still and all, he knows that this time around, after everything that has happened, she may be all out of tries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your writer in the year 2017: I miss writing drabbles.


	10. Controlling the Crash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Control. Pre-show. What was going through Harriet's head when she wrote the break-up email to Matt? Second person.

You’ve completely lost control of the situation and you don’t know how to get it back. You’re spiraling like a plane without a tail and you need to do something because if you keep doing nothing you’re going to crash and you can’t crash anymore. If you crash again you might not be able to put the pieces back together. And you’re hurt and you don’t want to hurt and you need to do something. You have to do something. So you write a letter, not even a letter, you write an email, because it’s quicker and won’t get lost in the fan mail and you don’t have to wait to know if he got it or didn’t get it or whatever the hell else might go wrong. You write this because you need to take back whatever control you can. Because he’s not talking to you and you’re not good at him not talking to you.  
  
You reason that it’s actually better this way. This way he’ll have time to let it sink in, or at least mull it over a little - which could potentially back fire, this  _is_  Matt. And it’ll give you time to get your nerve back up before you see him again, because this is Matt and you know it isn’t gonna be easy. You know it’s not fair to him because he doesn't get his say immediately and it’s like either you can't bear to face him(which hurts) or you don't have the time or care enough anymore to do so(which hurts more). But when was the last time Matt was fair to you? When you were trying to promote the CD? You don’t think so. So it’s his turn, right?   
  
And writing a letter, sending an email, gives you control and sometimes that control is worth hurting him(and it’s gonna hurt him even if you did this in person, right?). Because when it all comes down to it you're hurt, too. And Matt's distant and he's not talking and he's cold. You don't know what's going on in his head and it hurts you to be in the same room with him because you can feel the disappointment coming off of him in waves and it  _hurts so much_. It would have been easier if you'd cheated on him or if he'd just get angry and yell like a normal person. But he's not normal, he's never been normal and you love that. You hate it and you love it and you press send because you don't know what else to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your writer in the year 2017: I would like to subtitle this one "teen angst is conducive to writing fanfic angst," but that would make a terrible subtitle. This also the last second person piece you'll have to endure.


	11. Second Chances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did that thing where you put iTunes on random and write a fic while whatever song is playing, and I kind of like what came out. Which is interesting since I don't usually delve much into dialogue and when I do it's usually a horrific mess, lol.
> 
> Song: I’ll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday  
> Time: 3:31

"Do you believe in second chances?"  
  
Harriet didn't even have to turn around. “You know, that's a very good question. Why do you ask, Matthew?"  
  
"Well, see I was thinking -"  
  
"How novel," she quipped, turning around.  
  
Matt grinned. "I was thinking that if you do, I might ask you to dance."  
  
"And if I don't, you're not going to ask me to dance?" Harriet asked coyly.  
  
"Well, let's just say I wanted to know where things stood before I did."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Because you see if we dance I might try to kiss you, and I'd prefer not to be slapped in front of all these people."  
  
"Ah. Well, are we going to dance, or are you just gonna keep standing there?"  
  
"You didn't answer the question."  
  
"You're right, I didn't," she replied with a sly smile. "I guess you'll just have to wait and see."  
  
Matt smiled as he took her hand and led her out onto the floor.   
  
"I can do that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your writer in the year 2017: this was cuter than I remembered it being.


	12. Looking For Pluto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Pluto. Set a few years post-show. Assume that M/H didn't stay together for good after the finale. Little bit of fluff.

She found him outside sitting on the patio bench, beer in hand, looking up at the sky.  
  
“Whatcha doing out here alone? You do know there’s a party going on inside, right?”  
  
His head jerked at the sound of her voice. A smile fell on his face in that way of his which almost made him look innocent. She sat down on the other side of the bench.  
  
“I’m looking for Pluto.”  
  
She laughed. “Oh, you are?”  
  
“I heard he was supposed to cross paths with Earth tonight.”  
  
“Well, he’s still pretty far away. You might need a telescope.”  
  
He winked at her. “Details, details.”  
  
She shook her head and took a deep breath, drinking in the warm night air. “I love nights like this.”  
  
He nodded and took a sip of his beer. “Yeah, me too.”  
  
She reached over and grabbed his beer, taking a sip. “You gonna tell me what you’re really doing out here?”  
  
He kinda shrugged, and for some reason it made him appear smaller, maybe a little defeated. “I don’t know, Harry. Just not up for a party tonight.”  
  
She waited a moment, choosing her words carefully. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with it being Jeannie’s engagement party, would it?”  
  
He didn’t answer, letting the question hang in the air as he stared up at the stars. She took another sip of his beer. It was warm, but it was better than doing nothing.  
  
Slowly he shook his head. “Not in the way you mean.”  
  
She relaxed into the bench. “Care to elaborate?”  
  
Harriet watched as he shifted around on his side of the bench and ran a hand through his hair.  
  
“Jeannie getting married doesn’t bother me. But it’s just one more reminder that we’re not getting any younger.”  
  
“Oh, you’re getting sentimental on me?” She asked; a little amused, a little tired.  
  
He kind of laughed. “Hell, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just going batty in my old age.”  
  
She chuckled. “Matt, you’ve always been batty.”  
  
He turned to her, flashing a smile. “I know.”  
  
“So what are you getting at? Do you…” she trailed off, turning her attention to the label of the beer bottle as she picked at a corner. “Do you want to get married or something?”  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
At this she looked back up to find him watching her. She tried to find the joke in his eyes, but all she saw was him. She swallowed. “Are you sure? I know we haven’t been back together that long…” she dropped off, losing her nerve.  
  
“No, I’m not sure. But I am sure that I love you, and that you’re the only woman who might ever be able to put up with me that long. I’m not sure about getting married, but I am sure about who it’ll be if I ever am.”  
  
At this she smiled and slid over next to him. He brought his arm around her shoulder.  
  
“Okay. Let’s find Pluto.”  
  
He kissed her temple. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your writer in the year 2017: now this one I actually remember loving a lot.


	13. a memory's tricks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Pain. Set a few years post-show. ANGSTY.

She still has his pillow.  
  
It’s feather.  
  
She hates feather.  
  
  
  
  
\--  
  
  
  
  
“How could you have left without saying goodbye?”  
  
  
  
  
\--  
  
  
  
  
He brought his hand up to brush his thumb along her cheek. She closed her eyes and just focused on feeling the warmth from his palm on her neck, trying to drown out the words he spoke.  
  
She’s heard them all before, after all.  
  
  
  
When she woke up the pillow was soaked.  
  
He was still gone.  
  
  
  
  
\--  
  
  
  
  
The glass is cold when she brings it to her lips. The amber liquid slides down easy. So easy.  
  
Luke takes her home later.  
  
And she lets him.  
  
She lets his hands wrap around her waist to the zipper on the back of her dress. She lets the haziness surrounding her head pretend it’s not his lips on hers.  
  
She doesn’t let herself cry until he leaves. The tears fall like battered soldiers, tired of the same old thing.  
  
  
  
  
\--  
  
  
  
  
Some days she wonders. Mostly she doesn’t.  
  
It’s easier like that.  
  
Right?  
  
  
  
  
\--  
  
  
  
  
He started smoking the third time he went to rehab. When she asked him why he wouldn’t answer. Her fingers wrapped in the cloth of his shirt.  
  
_“- talk to me, Matthew.”_  
  
She can’t get the look on his face out of her head. The lines so pronounced. The gauntness of his cheeks.  
  
She pulled him into a hug.  
  
If she didn’t see it, it wasn’t there.  
  
Later she thinks that she should have taken a closer look. If only she had just looked into his eyes.  
  
Later she realizes he was already gone.  
  
  
  
  
\--  
  
  
  
  
The eulogy was lovely. The rabbi spoke of his kindness and the love he had for his friends and family.  
  
He didn’t talk about the pills.  
  
He didn’t mention the note.  
  
  
  
  
\--  
  
  
  
  
She still sleeps with his pillow.  
  
It’s feather.  
  
She hates feather.  
  
  
  
  
_fin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your writer in the year 2017: I can actually remember writing this in my dorm room sophomore year of college, listening to "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap over and over. And I'm sorry.


	14. it's only that I miss you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Jess. Sorry if this is just a rambly mess. I'm afraid I have an ongoing love affair with run-ons.. a couple years pre-show.

Harriet had thought it would be easier after they broke up. She would shut that door and leave him on the other side of it. Matt was the one who’d walked away first. The world had come crashing down on him. The show,  _Wes_ , had let him down, let him go. He’d left her behind to deal with the looks, the whispers and stares, and that suffocating quiet that happens when the people in the room stop talking because you’ve walked in it.  
  
She had thought it would be easier.  
  
But the days stretch into weeks and she walks around with this weight on her chest. She wants to call him but she can’t because she’s too stubborn and he’s too stubborn and they’ve been down this road before. The looks in the hallways are changing from accusations to concern and she wants to scream  _can’t you see I’m fine!_  And in the end, that’s the problem.  
  
She’s fine and he’s not and she can’t be there for him, and she misses the smell of his shampoo on her pillow and his laugh at the end of a really long day. She misses  _him_ , his hand on the small of her back and it’s his voice in the back of her head narrating all the bullshit that goes on at the show and it makes her want to cry because even when he’s not there he’s making her laugh.  
  
He’s the voice in her head keeping her sane during the day, and the one who leaves her crying in her dreams. He left her behind first and then left her altogether because he never knew the only one she’d ever wanted was him. She didn’t stand by him when he needed her most. The shame that comes attached to that is why she keeps staying even through the whispers and the stares because it’s not even half as bad as she deserves.  
  
He left and she stayed and she’ll keep staying because missing him is worse than anything they could throw at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A last note from your writer in the year 2017: I am sorry I can't wrap this up on a happier note. This was the last thing I ever wrote for them.


End file.
